


You Don’t Have To Be Alone

by SoftIceCream



Series: Happy Holidays [1]
Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftIceCream/pseuds/SoftIceCream
Summary: Dwight would rather his coworker, Jim, not be alone for Christmas.
Relationships: Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute
Series: Happy Holidays [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163603
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	You Don’t Have To Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t come up with a better title, sorry. :/

Dwight was a pretty social guy. He had a brood of companions and a host of interests. Between tending to his farm and going out with friends, Dwight’s weekends were booked and busy. He made plans far ahead of time and gave himself no room for changes. He didn’t cancel plans either until he had good reason to because he was dependable, strong, and sturdy for anyone in need.

That said, Dwight found himself badgering his detestable coworker Jim Halpert every Friday evening, mining him for information about his plans. In Dwight’s opinion, Jim was a wretched human being. Annoying, troublesome, a lazy employee, and generally an eyesore, Dwight hated him. He made work cumbersome with his pranking and Dwight missed the days before Jim started at Dunder Mifflin three years ago. So Dwight was perplexed as to why he spent the last twenty-seven Fridays asking Jim what his weekend plans were. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what Jim got up to and he cared even less about making small talk with unlikeable cretins. It was a waste of his time since nothing would come of the question other than Dwight implicitly rubbing his social life into Jim’s face.

Oh, who was he kidding? Dwight adored Jim.

He wasn’t sure why he did since he didn’t dispute how aggravating Jim could be. And honestly, Dwight knew absolutely nothing about Jim. Their relationship consisted entirely of Jim fucking with him on occasion, which may or may not have been a reaction to something Dwight may or may not have done to him, and that was the extent of it. They bickered every once and a while but more often than not they said nothing at all, only outright conversing if their work overlapped. Dwight remembered finding Jim boring when he first started.

But now, Dwight wanted to get to know him. And he could (maybe) once he stopped chickening out when it came to asking Jim out. So he hoped that today would be the Friday he asked Jim to hang out instead of being week twenty-eight of his failed attempts of talking to his desk mate. He could do it and he would do it!

* * *

It was now the thirty-fifth Friday that had come and almost gone without Dwight asking Jim to go out. He had a plan this time that was sure to work: Christmas. Christmas was coming up in a week and if Jim spent Christmas the way he spent his weekends then he was bound to be alone. Dwight, on the other hand, had a proud Schrute Christmas tradition of merrymaking and festivities that would be hosted at his farm. While Dwight would be busy planning and hosting it seemed like the perfect event to invite Jim to. He wouldn’t feel (finish)

At the end of another Friday, where the only words exchanged between Dwight and Jim were the occasional insult, Dwight followed Jim out to his car.

“What are you doing for Christmas,” Dwight asked.

Jim stilled his hand, stopping himself from opening his car door. Usually, Jim reacted aloof to his questions. When he first started pestering Jim he would answer semi-earnestly about his plans or lack of. Around the seventh time he was asked Jim started getting cagey with him, giving brief answers that basically amounted to “nothing” if he answered at all. Usually, he ignored Dwight. Today was different though.

“Dwight, fuck off,” Jim spat.

That was the first time Jim had been outright hostile. “I’m just curious. I’ll be having a large get-together with my family for Christmas. There will be plenty of merriment abound.”

“Oh my God, why do I care,” Jim asked. He aggressively pressed away at his keys, trying to evade Dwight.

“I was seeing what your plans were?”

“Why? So you can once again brag about your social life? I don’t care, Dwight. Please spare me.”

Did Dwight come off as bragging about his social life? He wasn’t trying to but he could understand why Jim thought that. These conversations often petered into contextless nothingness. If their roles were reversed Dwight would feel upset too. 

“No. I wanted to invite you to come if you were free.”

“I have plans,” Jim replied spitefully.

“Doing what?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

Dwight pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card realizing if he didn’t have Jim’s number then he probably didn’t have his. “If you find yourself bored or in between parties on Christmas then you’re more than welcome at the Schrutes’ Chrischdaang festivities.”

Jim took the card from Dwight but gave no other indication that he was considering it. Still, Dwight took it as a good sign he could count on Jim’s presence. He’d adjust the food orders and set an extra place for him. If he didn’t come then there’d be extra food. It wasn’t too bad to dream.

* * *

Despite not receiving a response (which was a response in itself), Dwight forged ahead with buying Jim a gift. In case he came. It could still happen and Dwight wanted to be prepared! But he ran into a small hurdle: he had no idea what to get Jim. A gift card was his best bet but seemed impersonal. Plus, Dwight couldn’t display his expert-level packaging and wrapping skills on a thin gift card. But they never spoke about interests with each other, never spoke about hobbies, or likes, or even dislikes. Hell, if he knew what Jim disliked that would’ve helped, so he’d know how not to offend him.

He saw a pair of fuzzy slippers that resembled Gritty. He wondered if Jim was a fan of hockey or cute things. It seemed terribly inoffensive and if Jim hated it Dwight wouldn’t be upset if he trashed it. He added them and a Flyers cap to his shopping cart before buying it. The worst-case scenario was Jim didn’t come and Dwight had new slippers. That wasn’t too bad of a deal. 

Dwight showered and dressed for that evening’s LARPing session, checking his phone intermittently for a reply from Jim. By the time he exited his house, Dwight gave up any hope Jim would call him. As he started his car, his phone rang. Dwight dropped his phone in his haste to answer it, almost missing the call.

“Jim, greetings,” Dwight answered, trying to curb his excitement.

“Hey, Dwight.”

It was silent after that, neither saying anything. Dwight thought the call was dropped and pulled the phone away from his face to check the connection. He heard faint rumblings from the phone prompting him to bring it back to his face. He ended up missing whatever it was Jim said.

“I’m sorry, my phone is breaking up,” Dwight lied, too embarrassed to admit he accidentally didn’t catch what Jim said.

“Oh. I was asking if it were too late to take you up on your offer?”

Dwight’s heart skipped a beat. “No, you’re welcome to come!”

“Okay. Can you text me the address? I’ll see you in a few days.”  
  


Jim didn’t linger on the phone much longer, hanging up after he got the information. Dwight didn’t dwell on it, happy that Jim was coming. He chalked up Jim’s curtness to the awkwardness between them. Hopefully, after Christmas things wouldn’t be awkward anymore.

* * *

  
Dwight sat in the living room answering the door whenever the doorbell rang. It was just his family members coming and going and Dwight found himself getting irritated for no reason. He told Jim he could come at whatever time he was comfortable coming and yet Dwight felt like Jim was late. Should he have told Jim a time just for his peace of mind? Maybe Jim wouldn’t come at all. He didn’t seem too keen on the idea when they last spoke. It was presumptuous of him to think Jim would be lonely. Maybe Jim was alone on Christmas because he wanted to be. Maybe he was just a loner, Jim was cool like that, maybe. Or maybe he didn’t like Dwight.

There was incessant knocking at the door. Dwight rolled his eyes and ignored it; his annoying family members had keys and could get in without bothering him. From the corner of his eye, he could see the back of a tall, lanky, slumped over figure walking to their car.

Jim.

Dwight cursed under his breath and leaped over to the door. He swung it open and hollered out, “Jim!”

Jim stopped and turned around at Dwight’s voice. Dwight flagged his back over with a little too much energy. Jim stopped right in front of Dwight’s screen door, not coming in any further.

“Freelich Grischtdaag alliebber, Jim. Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”

Jim awkwardly scratched at the back of his head. “I did but no one answered.”

“You could have knocked.”

“I did…”

Dwight hoped he didn’t make Jim feel unwanted. “I’m sorry. I was a bit busy and didn’t hear you. Forgive me.”

“It’s okay, I understand…” They stood awkwardly across from each other, Jim not coming in and Dwight forgetting to invite him in. “Oh,” Jim remembered, snapping his fingers. “I got you a gift.” He gave Dwight a shiny multicolored gift bag with fuchsia wrapping paper and many ribbons on it. Maybe the slippers wouldn’t be such a bad gift for Jim. Dwight carefully removed the wrapping paper and pulled out a gift set of jams. There were twenty-four jars of assorted flavors.

“I hope you like it,” Jim said.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Dwight said, touched.

“It’d be rude to come empty-handed. I think you’d like these too. They’re from a farm around here I think, I get them at the farmers market and they have a small store downtown too—,”

“You like farmers’ markets? Me too!” Then Dwight kicked himself for interrupting Jim.

“Oh, haha, me too. But yeah. I thought it’d be rude not to bring food since there’s now an extra mouth to feed so I made these,” Jim held up a large Tupperware container filled with bread of some sort. “These are made with the jam too. They’re legit.”

Dwight inspected the jams. The flavors sounded good and each jar was small enough that he and Mose could finish them by themselves, not that he planned on sharing his gift with him. It just wouldn’t be a hassle to eat. Then Dwight noticed the insignia on the labels.

“These are from our rival farm,” Dwight said aloud.

Jim paled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” He tried reaching out for the jams to take them back but Dwight stopped him. “I can get you something else. It wouldn’t be the same as getting something on Christmas but…”

“It’s fine! I’ve always wanted to sample the competition’s best products. However, my pride has prevented me from purchasing merchandise from Schrute Farm’s rivals so you giving me a gift set from Dunmore Mills has allowed me to scope out their abilities while not financially contributing to them. Thank you for the thoughtful gift, Jim.”

Still, Jim looked embarrassed having gifted Dwight a competitor’s product. “Oh, okay.”

Dwight took the Tupperware from Jim with his free hand and stepped out of the way so Jim could come in from the cold. “And you made these?”

“Didn’t want to come empty-handed,” Jim reiterated. “Will it be fine if I used the jam from Dunmore? I don’t want to make your family uncomfortable.”

Dwight was more worried about Jim being uncomfortable. “They’ll be fine. Come inside.”

Right above the door frame was mistletoe that one of Dwight’s cousins hung as a joke. Now both he and Jim stood underneath it. In the spirit of tradition, Dwight leaned forward to press a kiss onto Jim’s head. Flustered, Jim dodged the kiss, leaving Dwight hanging.

“Uh?”

“Mistletoe,” Dwight explained, pointing up to the hanging plant.

“Oh.” Jim’s face was red and Dight had given him enough ammo in the last five minutes to leave if he so chose to. 

“Can I take your coat?”

Dwight gave Jim back his gifts in exchange for his coat. He led Jim to his living room so he could sit down. 

“We’ll have light merry-making in twenty minutes before the feast. Is that alright?”

“Of course. I’ve always wanted to see a Pennsylvania Dutch Christmas. Uh, you are Pennsylvania Dutch, right?” 

“Hopefully we don’t disappoint you.”

Dwight hung up Jim’s coat before running to his room and placing Jim’s gift on his mantle. He didn’t want anyone else eating his nice jams. When he went back to the living room he found Jim surrounded by his baby cousins clamoring into his lap. Jim gave Dwight an amused yet still pleading look. “There are so many kids in your family.”

“It’s in our Schrute genes to reproduce. We are a numerous bunch and reproduce easily. Is that not the point of family, to grow larger and outward?”

“If you say so.”

Dwight sat next to Jim, displacing one of his relatives and “accidentally” knocking knees with Jim. “The show is about to begin,” he told Jim. “Have you been impish or admirable this year?”

Jim looked faux-thoughtful. “Hmm,” he said, tapping at his chin. “I think I’ve been a good boy this year. But you’d have to ask my coworker. He might think otherwise.” 

Dwight smiled. “I’m sure your coworker thinks you’ve been admirable this year too. I’m sure he thinks you’re funny and smart and a diligent worker.”

Jim looked dubious. “Seriously? Because he usually doesn’t waste any time telling me I’m a sack of shit and annoying. And a waste of space and air.”

Dwight could have died. But, to be fair, he said those things before he came to like Jim. “I bet he said it to build rapport since he wants to get to know you better.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Jim grinned. “I’d like to get to know Stanley better too. Maybe I should get him a belated Christmas gift.”

Dwight frowned, wasn’t Jim talking about him? Did he have a love-hate (but mostly love) relationship with Stanley too? From the soft yet worried smile on Jim’s face, Dwight could tell that he was overreacting and Jim was definitely talking about him. “So you’re gonna suck up to him?”

“If it makes him like me more.”

Dwight blushed.

“If you two are done flirting, the show’s about to begin,” Dwight’s sister said. She forced her way between Dwight and Jim. Dwight pinched her on her thigh for the intrusion.

Bells and the slicing of air could be heard before the special guest made themselves apparent. The younger children ran toward the patio and banged on the glass, excited for Belsnickel and his assistant to arrive. Branches rapped on the door and a tall and imposing figure appeared before the children. They eagerly threw the door open to allow Belsnickel in.

“Have you been impish or admirable this year,” he asked the children.

“Admirable, admirable,” a few of them squealed. One boy stood off to the side, back rigged with grit and pride. It reminded Dwight of himself; that’s why, if anyone asked, little Elias was his favorite cousin.

“I was impish,” Elias said boldly. To Dwight’s left Elias’s mother muttered about it being true and how much of a pain in the ass her son was.

“While your honesty is commendable you are aware of what happens to naughty children.”

“Yes,” Elias replied gravely. The little boy dropped his pants and bent over, presenting his naked rear to Belsnickel.

Dwight could see Jim go ridged.

Belsnickel brought his switch down onto Elias' rear ten times before dismissing the boy who was a crying mess. He pulled his pants back up and ran over to his mother, hugging her and burrowing his chest into her bosom.

“Hopefully that sets you straight for the coming year,” Belsnickel stated.

“Please,” Elias’s mother scoffed. “It didn’t set him straight last year or the year before, or when I do it at home. He’ll never learn.”

Jim had the classic look on his face when something was happening and he didn’t agree with it. Dwight was starting to grow worried.

“Is everything good,” Dwight asked Jim. Before Jim could answer Belsnickel strolled over, stopping in front of them.

“Who’s this young man,” Belsnickel inquired, pointing the end of his switch at Jim’s nose. Jim stared it down, eyes daring Belsnickel to hit him with it.

“My friend,” Dwight answered for him.

“Where did you meet his friend?”

“Work?”

Belsnickel brought the switch down on Jim’s thigh. It had to hurt a bit, but with his thigh covered by his tight jeans, Jim didn’t take the brunt of the hit. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Why are you hitting him,” Dwight asked, alarmed. 

“You’ve spouted off about how wretched your coworkers were many times. Am I to believe that this boy isn’t naughty? He deserves his whipping too.”

This time Belsnickel aimed and nailed Jim on his bare neck twice. Jim hissed and in retaliation reached over and snatched the switch away from Belsnickel, snapping it in half and then fourths and then eights before dropping the twigs on the floor.

“Oh, alright,” Belsnickel replied sheepishly. “No one’s ever challenged Belsnickel before. This provides evidence that you are impish to the bone, and imprudent too.”

All of Dwight’s family members stared at Jim, offended by his boorish behavior.

“Why don’t we bring out the gifts,” Dwight said quickly, trying to divert attention from Jim. Fortunately, it worked and Belsnickel went back outside to retrieve his assistant, with the small children following. Dwight leaned over his sister, not caring about her discomfort (fuck her for sitting between them), and asked, “Is your neck okay? I can take a look at it.”

Jim craned his neck so Dwight could better see the side he was hit on. There were two angry, red, painful-looking welts where Jim had been struck. 

“What’s my damage?”

“I have an ointment that’ll help with the swelling.”

Dwight grabbed Jim’s hand, fighting back the urge to comment on how dainty it was, and stood to lead him away. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen like that.

Besnickel came back with his assistant, Zwarte Piet.

Jim let out a quiet yet indignant gasp. He snatched his hand back.

“Who wants presents,” Mose-as-Zwarte-Piet asked. The children perked up and gathered around him. Jim gave Dwight an unimpressed look that screamed, “I’m getting away from your crazy family.”

It was Dwight’s sister Fannie who broke the tension. “Seriously? We’re still doing the blackface,” she sighed disagreeably. “It’s disturbing you all would want to hold on to this.”

“This is tradition,” Besnickel hollered. “You will not suppress tradition! I don’t care what the liberals or the blacks think about Zwarte Piet! We’ve been doing this for centuries and we will not stop because of soft-bodied snowflakes!”

“Dwight, maybe I should head home. For my neck,” Jim whispered to Dwight.

Panicked, Dwight stood. “Take the paint off,” he commanded. He pulled Mose into the kitchen and started wiping it off with a wet towel. He could hear protests from the living room and Mose tried squirming out of his grasp. Dwight didn’t care. What he did care about was how Jim’s shoulders relaxed and how he leaned back into his seat, no longer anxious to leave. Dwight released Mose and shoved him back into the living room. 

“There, now the gift-giving can commence.”

Some of his relatives stared at Dwight, hate itched on their faces at the abrupt disregard for tradition. Others glared at Jim, blaming him for Dwight’s change of heart. Before anyone could take their anger out on Jim, Dwight said, “If you don’t like it then we’ll stop hosting at my house.”

“But your farm is the biggest lot of land in all of the Schrutes’s possession,” Besnickel said indignantly. 

“Well, I believe this is a small concession for a good time.”

Dwight’s tone left no room for argument so Besnickel and Zwarte Piet began to hand out the homemade gifts to the children and teens present. While his family was otherwise occupied, Dwight led Jim by the hand to his bedroom. He closed the door behind them so no one would interrupt and began looking for his first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to Jim, feeling embarrassed by his family, their traditions and the Schrute name.

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

Dwight pulled the first aid kit from under his bed. “I should have been aware that my family’s festivities might come off as offensive.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jim mused. “It was...interesting. But don’t apologize because you think I want to hear it. If you don’t feel sorry about it then I’d rather you save it.”

“Sorry,” Dwight said again.

“Are you really?”

“No, I’m sorry for what I’m about to do to you. I think this antiseptic will burn severely.”

Dwight slapped a tissue covered in ointment on Jim’s neck. He hissed in return. Dwight wiped at the welts with the tissue, cleaning tiny specks of blood, before bandaging the wound. 

“I am sorry you got hit,” Dwight admitted. “He really jumped the gun there.”  
  


“Who’s he,” Jim asked topically.

“Belsnickel is a gift-bringer who punishes naughty children. Since coal was a good resource to have it seemed too nice to give it to children. Instead, they got a beating. Unless you’re asking who’s inside the suit. That would be my father.”

“Oh.”

They left Dwight’s room and descended down the stairs. Dwight pulled Jim’s hand in the direction of the dining room but Jim dug his heels into the ground.

“Actually, maybe I should go,” Jim mumbled. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Why? At least eat before you leave.”

“I don’t want to make things more awkward than they are. I also owe you an apology for breaking your Christmas props.”

“Jim, this is my house, not anyone else’s. It means a lot to me that you came to see me on a major holiday. I don’t care whether my family welcomes you. I welcome you and I pay the bills here so my opinion is final.”

Jim gave him a small smile. “Well, lead the way, Schrute.”

Dwight sat near the head of the table; he wasn’t the patriarch but one day he would be. That meant Jim got a prime seat which infuriated some of Dwight’s family. No one said anything but it was apparent from how they were icing Jim out from conversations that they were bitter about it. It went as far as Dwight having to make Jim’s plate of food since some of the elders refused to pass the dishes to him. Dwight could tell Jim was a bit dejected by the rejection. At least they liked Jim’s bread, it was just a shame he couldn’t enjoy it without Dwight grabbing it for him.

After dinner, Dwight led Jim out to his patio. In the days prior to Christmas Mose and Dwight strung lights across all the trees littering their yard. It had snowed considerably in addition to that, giving Dwight’s backyard a winter wonderland feel.

“This night didn’t go as planned,” Dwight confessed. “I’m sorry about how cruel my family was to you tonight.”

“I think I invited it onto myself,” Jim smiled.

“Absolutely not. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel unwelcome here.”

“I didn’t feel unwelcome, Dwight. You invited me and I hung out with you for the evening. I didn’t come here expecting to make friends with anyone. So, by that measure, I think the night was okay.”

“Really,” Dwight asked dubiously. “Well, I’m sorry regardless.”

They both said nothing after that, electing to look at the landscape surrounding Dwight’s farm. The barn could be seen from Dwight’s backyard. It was covered in lights, garland, and wreaths. Lights lined the wooded fences of his property. Dwight tended to maintain small lighting and flowers on the pergolas that connected different parts of the commercial of his farm. He grew berries and apples and pumpkins along with beets meaning the fall and winter were busy times for the farm and thus it needed to look presentable. He and Mose erected a few light displays right on the boundary of the farm, competing and complementing their neighboring farms who’d also done the same, giving the greater area an unofficial light show. All the paths were neatly cleared and salted, lit by multicolored garden lights. All in all, Dwight’s property was stunning.

Jim and Dwight’s hands rested mere centimeters away from one another. Dwight wondered if he’d ruin the moment by taking Jim’s hand in his.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Dwight confessed. “You didn’t seem too happy when I invited you.”

“I don’t understand your little game where you ask me what I’m doing for the weekend. The answer’s never changed. What do you gain from that besides annoying me?”

“Does there need to be another reason?”  
  


Jim rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I’ve been asking so I could invite you to hang out,” Dwight said. “But I always chicken out.”  
  
“Oh.”

“But not this time, I was successful this time! But then I was worried by that point I put you off; you didn’t give me a confirmation until a few days later…”

“Oh! It wasn’t because I was mad or anything. I just didn’t want to come without a gift so I waited until I found something before agreeing.”

Dwight smiled. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you’re a guest.”

“It’s Christmas,” Jim challenged. “Of course I needed a gift. Especially since you went out of your way to include me.”

“Well, you went out of your way to come here so it balances out.”

“It’s not nearly as big of a deal as you make it,” Jim muttered.

“Maybe not, but I’m still honored you deemed me worthy of your time.”

“Hm.”

A light mist of snow started to fall, shimmering in the moonlight and against the cool yellow-colored lights.

“Not to sound like a hypocrite--,”

“You usually do,” Jim chimed.

“--But I got you something too.” 

With that, Dwight entered his house to procure the gift for Jim he put under the tree. He stepped back into the frigid cold and pushed the box into Jim’s hands.

“You already invited me and made sure your dinner had enough food for me. You really didn’t have to get me a gift. And, I’m sure Besnickel there wouldn’t be happy knowing such an imprudently impish boy like myself got a gift.”

“It’s no problem, really. You were good enough this year, anyway.”

“‘Good enough’, huh.”

Jim moved to open it but Dwight stopped him by snatching the box back.

“I want to open it now,” Jim said with a small smile. “I get the feeling you’re embarrassed by what you bought.”

“Please, Halpert. I don’t feel embarrassment.”

“So then I should be embarrassed by what’s in the box.”

Dwight grimaced. “I’m embarrassed.”

Jim laughed. “I’ll open it when I get home.”

“I appreciate you coming and bringing dessert. Your presence was enjoyable and I’m glad I could give you something to do; I didn’t want you to be lonely on Christmas.”

“We aren’t that close,” Jim said dismissively. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Your farm is nice,” Jim deflected. “I imagined it being a bit different…”

“I pride myself on my farm. There’s not a beet or barrel out of place.”

“It’s pretty.”  
  
“It’s my baby and I care for it as such.”

“Thanks for worrying about me,” Jim finally said. “I’m truly grateful. I don’t mind being alone on holidays but it was nice to do something. I think that’s why I didn’t mind your family too much.”

“Yeah?”

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to get to know you more outside of work, too. I guess I wasn’t sure how to approach you. It was nice hanging out with you today.”

“I want a do-over,” Dwight said before he could stop himself. “Today was awkward and we didn’t hang out alone. Whenever you’re free I’d like it if we could go out? Like to a movie or go-carting.”

Jim snorted. “Go-carting? I’ll have to check my schedule to see when I’m free.” 

Jim pulled out his phone and began scrolling through what Dwight presumed to be his planner. He bore a deep frown on his face the longer he scrolled.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m free for the next few months,” he said sadly.

Dwight frowned. Months were a long time to wait. Couldn’t they go after work or something? Or during lunch? They could even fake a sales call and go. Dwight didn’t like skipping out on work but he could make an exception.

Jim tapped on his shoulder. “Dwight, I’m kidding. I have nothing planned. In fact, we could hang out tomorrow if you want.”

Dwight let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, good. Tomorrow works for me too.”

Jim turned to leave. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening with your family.”

Dwight grabbed Jim’s hand before he could register what he was doing and pulled him in for a kiss. Fornaturely for Dwight, Jim didn’t flinch as he did earlier in the day, although he probably didn’t anticipate Dwight trying to kiss him (again).

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dwight repeated back, hoping Jim wasn’t disgusted or angry with him. “Get home safe.”

Jim, face flushed and adorned with a smile, said, “yeah, goodnight, Dwight.”

Dwight stood on his patio long after Jim left, grinning like an idiot. Dwight was much too old to believe in things like Besnickel and Zwarte Piet and miracles over hard work. But despite that, he felt like something magical just happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!


End file.
